


remember me please

by Grilled_Koi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftermath, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-Canon, Reader-Insert, everybody forgets goro because he died, ish, it's not really, you're the main character in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grilled_Koi/pseuds/Grilled_Koi
Summary: As days and college exams go by, you always notice a flash of chestnut brown hair.Nobody knows what you're looking at. After all, you're the only one who remembers. Nobody remembers who the Black Mask was or who the Detective Prince was. Only you.*This is written in 2nd pov
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Kurusu Akira & Morgana, Kurusu Akira & Niijima Makoto, Kurusu Akira & Okumura Haru, Kurusu Akira & Takamaki Ann
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	remember me please

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [sweet nothings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819335) by [jitters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jitters/pseuds/jitters). 
  * Inspired by [Chains of Captivity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355650) by [Emerald_Heart12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Heart12/pseuds/Emerald_Heart12). 



> If you're confused about the "you" instead of the "I" or the "Akira", it's because this is in 2nd pov! It's my first time trying it out and since it's not commonly used I wanted to try it out. I hope this clears up any sort of confusion.
> 
> OMF! if you want some music to go with this I highly suggest https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QuV2dI-Fpwo&list=RDMMQuV2dI-Fpwo&start_radio=1 it's really good and I wrote this fic while listening to it

Every time you enter LeBlanc, a wash of chestnut hair and two specks of terracotta red flash with a smile before your name is called.

The cat in your bag, Morgana, silently wonders whatever you were looking at. Noticing your blank stare at the first stool. Never questioning why and never understanding as well. 

You continue your trudge through life, fake glasses with thick lenses still on. Masking their sharp and cold eyes that others have said. Messy, but still organized hair covering the tops of it, giving yourself a softer look. A more approachable look. You never needed the glasses, but they’ve grown on you since your 2nd year of high school and that one-year probation for an assault you never did. 

You go to the best university in Japan, the University of Tokyo, spending your time at lectures and wondering where life will lead you. Morgana stays silent in your bag, with a few books and a pencil bag inside. Most of your papers you carry around campus. Going from class to class. 

Sometimes you just so happen to find one of your friends, either Makoto or Haru, walking to class too. You chat with them, only for a minute or two about college and the work and just about anything. You sit with them during lunch, schedules magically lining up. Discussing more of the frivolity of life and the memories of Shujin and being the Phantom Thieves.

Whenever the topic is brought up, from afar, you see chestnut brown hair tied in a short tail. Slowly walking to class, just like any other student. Your eyes would linger until your name was called again by your friends.

Makoto and Haru always noticed your stares. The way you would look off into the distance, you seemed so _far_ like you weren’t there with them. They too, like Morgana, never asked, only looking from afar with not a lick of understanding. 

Who was it you were looking at? What was it?

In the comfort of a small apartment, you studied away with a cup of coffee. Dishes in the sink with remnants of curry. Both taught by your pseudo father, a far better father than your real father. Linked by blood, nothing else connected the two of you. 

As you would study away for the next exam, Morgana would leave you in silence. Hanging around Ann or Haru, they lived in the same apartment along with Makoto for the sake of rent. 

Morgana would always ask the three of them what you were looking at. Nobody would come to mind. Not the many countless ~~_confidants_ ~~friends or rather connections you had. ~~_And never him. Rather, the bright red mask and the princely white getup were erased from their minds_. _The 2nd detective prince had swiftly escaped their minds as with_~~ They simply talked about other matters and reminiscing _the False god or the Holy Grail’s death._

Then came June 2nd. Nobody understood your tears as you placed white lilies atop your windowsill with a fresh plate of pancakes. You would never eat them until you had given your prayer. This was something Morgana did ask. All you would reply with was:

“It’s for ~~_him_ ~~someone I loved, but lost”

Your saddened look as dried tears stained your cheeks with faint red lines. 

Years earlier. On a warm afternoon, you dreamt of velvet blue. Dreamt of the cage you saw yourself in from afar. Dreamt of beautifully red gloves with a gray coat hanging to his ankles. You saw a child with a velvety blue dress and white hair with a large book in tow. You know her as Lavenza.

“Trickster, it seems we meet again.”

“Yeah… but why though?”

She lets out a sad sigh.

“Because as your attendant, I refuse to see you suffer. As Tricksters come and go, none have been hurt as badly as you have. It is my responsibility to see through your rehabilitation after all.”

You are confused, hadn’t the rehabilitation already ended? 

Lavenza takes notice of your confusion, promptly replying to ease the questions.

“Rehabilitation does not stretch to simply recovering you, rehabilitation is far more than that. To properly care for and prevent any other instances of such is also apart of rehabilitation. Rehabilitation never truly ends.”

“Oh...so what now?”

Her lackluster smile drops heavily. 

“You must forget Goro Akechi. He no longer exists in your world, nobody remembers him. Only you do.” 

“What?! No, you-! I, no I couldn’t, I can’t, I can’t forget him!”

“Trick-”

“Lavenza! I’m begging you don’t make me forget him! Please! Just...please…”

You feel a trickle of tears as they roll down your cheeks. 

“It must be done, no one will understand your words and you must be healed. Yaldabaoth's scar upon you has not been truly removed. Goro Akechi was a puppet for him, his existence was meant to disrupt the fragile peace held.”

She held a pained expression, you wanted to understand, but at the same time, you didn’t want to. Akechi Goro, the puppet he maybe, but a human he was too. With chestnut hair and terracotta red eyes, he was _human_. No one could make you deny that. 

“Then what about me! Am I just a puppet made by Igor?!”

“Trickster!”

“DON’T! Just no! I am not going to forget about him! Just let me, just please let me remember him. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten. I’ll manage, I won’t need your help.”

“But-”

“I said _no_ , I will remember Akechi for as long as I can, he deserves to be remembered by me at least!”

She lets out a strangled sigh now, different from the one you heard earlier.

“Very...very well Trickster.”

You reminisce on that dream, regret not at all clinging to you. All you regret was not saving him. He too was human. He too needed a helping hand. He too was broken like the many other confidants you had.

You hold his golden raygun in your hand. Right when everything had turned normal and your sentence in juvie had ended, you searched within your box of weapons for it. When you pulled it out, it had a thin coat of dust, maintenance was needed. 

You would always clean it every day, taking out each piece like a prized possession and cleaning each individual piece even when it was spotless from yesterday’s care.

At some point, your pseudo father’s daughter or rather another one of your friends took notice of you cleaning the ray gun. Futaba pointed it out and started asking about it. 

“Where I got it from? You should know, _he_ was on our team.”

“Whoooo? Akiraaaa, you’re not making any sense right now. Nobody on our team had that kind of gun. Makoto’s was similar, but it’s not shiny and golden. And DEFINITELY not an unreleased model from Featherman!”

Even as you laughed, you were confused. Has everyone forgotten about _him_? 

Confused, you noticed one of the many entrances to the Velvet Room. You had thought, if anyone had an answer, Lavenza would have it. So you asked. But the answer was far from kind.

“If someone were to die with their physical bodies within the Metaverse, then their existence shall cease to exist with it. You are an exception due to being a Trickster.”

From then on, you accepted that _he_ no longer existed. Only in your dreams. You would joke about how _he_ was some hallucination or illusion you had come up with during your many days of solitary confinement. You kept quiet and no one asked.

Everyone went about their lives. You too went about yours. 

And on every June 2nd, you would set a plate of fresh pancakes and a vase of white lilies. 

And on every June 2nd till your dying breath, you would utter:

  
“Happy Birthday, ~~ _Goro Akechi_ ~~.”

**Author's Note:**

> so like, if you wanna happier ver of this checked the fic linked above, it's by jitters and you could say this was indeed inspired by sweet nothings. There's also chains of captivity by Emerald_Heart12 that inspired this.


End file.
